Making a Valentine
by The-Missing-Paige
Summary: Castiel wants to take part in some human traditions…but as Dean soon finds out, the angel isn't quite prepared to take on crafting supplies. Not without causing a little stir, at least.


Dean walked into the motel room, sliding his cell phone into his pocket. According to Sam, their ghost was buried in Middle Hill Cemetery, nice and simple. They could just go in that night, burn the body, and be done with it. This was the kind of easy, quick job that Dean liked. Satisfied and with a few hours to kill, Dean walked over to the mini fridge and popped it open, grabbing a beer from the inside. He pulled off the cap, heading over to his bed and—

—spilled beer all down his front as he caught sight of the mess already occupying the mattress.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel greeted, not looking up from his work. Dean couldn't respond, gaping as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. Cas was sitting cross legged on his bed, for once lacking his trench coat and with a loosened tie, a cute, excited smile on his face. That was all fine and dandy. What _wasn't_ was the glitter that was stuck on absolutely everything, most noticeably the angel's hair, the scraps of paper littering the floor, the peeled backs of stickers (and a few sparkly heart stickers that had somehow ended up on Castiel's face), the ribbon that Cas was tangled up in, and the _glue_…

"Cas," Dean breathed, ignoring his wet shirt for the moment as he set the beer carefully down on a bedside table. "What…what the hell did you _do_?"

The angel's grin faded, replaced with an intense look of concentration and concern. "I am trying to partake in the arts and crafts, Dean. Believe it or not, they are a lot harder than they look."

Not quite able to comprehend what he was hearing, Dean shook his head. "Alright, Cas. But why did you have to do it on my _bed_? How am I supposed to sleep there tonight? Look at all that crap…"

"It's not crap," Castiel pouted. "These are my art supplies. See? I have glitter, and glue, and tape, and scissors, and—"

"I know, I can see," Dean interrupted, grinning. It was hard not to get caught up in the angel's excitement when Cas was this into something, when he stuck his tongue out like that because he was trying so hard… "So what are you making?" he asked, leaning over Castiel's shoulder to see.

"No!" Hurriedly, Cas bent forward, obscuring his work from Dean. "You can't see until it's finished, Dean!"

"Okay, okay, fine," Dean replied, holding his hands up. He couldn't imagine what the angel had decided to get up to this time…and probably, he didn't want to know. Instead of interrogating Cas further, Dean started to undress, pulling off his layers of shirts to grab a clean one. Wet beer feeling was _not_ comfortable.

He dug around in his bag, which was, thanks to Castiel, lying in a chair and not on his bed. Thanks to living on the road, Dean had a pretty limited wardrobe, but there _had_ to be one clean shirt in there…

"Dean?" Cas muttered, his voice strained. He turned to look at the angel, raising his eyebrows at Castiel's reddened cheeks. "Would you mind hurrying up?"

"What?"

"With the shirt!" Cas complained. "Your torso is distracting me from my arts and crafts."

All Dean could do for a long moment was blink. "Cas," he finally began, "you say some really weird shit, but that has to be the strangest thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth."

"I mean it Dean," Castiel insisted. "Please put a shirt on. I'm almost done, and I want to finish this."

Shrugging, Dean complied with the request, finally fishing a decent shirt out of his bag and pulling it over his head. Only once he was again fully covered did the angel return to his little project, cheeks still tinged pink. Whatever—Dean had long since given up trying to understand Castiel. It was easier to just let Cas do his thing and enjoy the aftermath, which was almost always either hysterical or endearingly awkward. He walked back over, picking up his dripping beer and taking a swing, smiling lightly as Castiel began to hum absentmindedly. God, the angel was just _too cute_.

"Don't worry, Cas, I'm not looking," Dean assured, as he walked around Castiel, reclining on Sam's bed and closing his eyes. A nap sounded good right about then. The angel continued to hum, though to Dean it sounded less aimless now, more purposeful…almost like a lullaby…

When Dean woke up, it was to fervent hands shaking his shoulders and the constant, repetitive calling of his name. "Dean! Wake up, Dean! I finished!"

Bleary eyed, Dean rubbed at his face, starting when he realized Cas was leaning over him, mere inches away. He could feel the angel's excited breath wafting across his face, and his eyes zeroed in on those smiling lips… "What?" he mumbled, as much to get an explanation as to snap himself out of his reverie.

"I finished my project, Dean! Get up, you have to see it," Castiel repeated, blue eyes shining, his hair disheveled and still dusted with fine, shimmering silver. The sight was, to say the least, breathtaking, and Dean felt as though his heart would stop.

"Okay, I'm up," he responded off handedly, sitting up, forcing the angel to back up. Dean grinned as he spotted Cas's hands clasped firmly behind his back, holding whatever it was that he had made. "Show me."

But Castiel didn't present his project right away. "I know it's early," he explained, the words coming in a rush, that lovely flush coming back into his cheeks. "But I was excited and I didn't know how it would go so I wanted to have extra time, and—here!" And with that, Cas thrust the object into Dean's hands.

He examined it slowly, handling the fragile paper craft with care. As he stared, Dean realized just what it was; a valentine. A basic, red paper heart, covered in smaller heart shaped stickers, with smooth white ribbon twisted around the edges. And in the middle, a simple message written in glitter: "Be Mine?" The whole thing was rather well done, if a little messy, and it made Dean choke up. He couldn't quite contain himself, melting on the inside as he was, couldn't stop the face splitting grin that crept up on him, couldn't prevent himself from getting a little misty eyed. The thought of how much effort the angel had put into this, how hard he had worked…

"Do you like it, Dean?" Cas asked, breathless with anticipation.

Wordlessly, Dean placed the valentine gently on Sam's bedside table, to keep it safe. Then he grabbed Castiel's hands, his wonderful, sticky, sparkly hands, and pulled the angel down on top of him. Cas cried out, but Dean caught him, laying back with Castiel in his arms. He'd kept himself in check for a long while, but this…this gesture pushed him over the edge, no going back. Dean held tightly to Cas, who was laughing now, pressing kisses into the angel's glitter filled hair. This, however, didn't seem to be enough for Castiel. Dean watched, suddenly feeling rather warm, as Cas lifted himself slightly, onto his knees, hovering above Dean for a moment before kissing him softly.

"Mmm…" If he were honest with himself, Dean had been waiting for this for a while now, and, _oh_, was it good. Better than good. Castiel was so warm, so sweet, his inexperienced lips nevertheless incredibly _forceful_…

When they broke apart, they were both out of breath. "Dean…" Castiel rumbled, and all of a sudden Dean was hyperaware of the obscene deepness of the angel's voice—it made him shiver. "Be mine?" Cas continued.

"What do you think?" Dean laughed, pulling Castiel down again. "Of course I'm yours."

The angel smiled against his lips before bringing new energy into the kiss, pushing against Dean almost in victory. Cas was so _close_, and caging him in, and all he could smell was Castiel. Never before had Dean focused so much on a scent, and suddenly he understood why the girls in high school had always been stealing his jacket to sniff it…he felt like he could live off Cas smell.

All of a sudden, the sound of a doorknob turning reached their ears, and Castiel pulled away. "I'll be back later," he whispered, husky, giving Dean a look that sent pleasant shivers running up and down his spine. And with that, the angel disappeared, leaving a cloud of glitter behind to fall onto Dean.

"Dean?" Sam called as he walked in the door, stopping in his tracks when he caught sight of Dean lying on the wrong bed, covered in glitter…not to mention the mess that was the other bed. "Uh…what the hell happened here?"

Still faintly breathless, and happier than he could ever remember being, Dean chuckled, grin firmly plastered on his face, and closed his eyes. "Cas found a new holiday to celebrate."


End file.
